Parents who yell at their children...

"Son, now, many years later, when I realize how hurt you my words and the pain brought you my screams and breakdowns, as closed, was clogged up these wounds your soul, it fills me with an icy shiver.

Sometimes helplessness, tension, frustration, of being lost in life, just not knowing what to do with all this, I have not had the strength to hear and support you in difficult moments for you, and instead woke up in me something animal, wild, what could yell at you and sometimes even to lend a hand... angel with clear eyes.

I remember, how could I say offensive words in your address, to slam the door, put in the corner to punish him for some petty offense. How could I not hear, not feel, and the more you spewing screams and movement, and endlessly scaring you with this.



My son, now, after so many years, I can't sleep at night, remembering these moments and realizing what a horror, what a blast your microverse that was for you, when the one closest to you, support, protection, rear, your personal God for the first time on earth unfolded to you a lion's muzzle, spewing wild sounds.

If then I could just feel and see how you flinch from my sudden movements or tone as everything compressed inside of you into a tiny ball, you can't hold back the tears, the trembling your sponge... and later you never cease to take my hands out of his pockets, fiddling with hair, clicking a pen, turn your eyes or blink too often, swinging on a chair, shut in the room when I come home from work...

If only I knew that wanting to see you implemented and successful, forcing you to study hard, to report on homework and learned the lessons and rules I've increased the distance between us. Between you and me. Between you and your confidence to the world and connecting with it.

If only I knew all this, felt and understood it, you would not have had so often to be sick, to sit at home because of rejection by his peers, to overcome challenging mental States, impacting on memory and nervous system, with a giant tension pulling at least a C grade.





If I knew all this when you were 2, 5, 10, 13...

Now, when I see you a grown man who doubts herself, shy in front of a supervisor, works on unloved work because he did not know what he wants, he prefers to sit than to act, considers himself a loser and a couch potato who wants nothing from life and lives on the thumb, like most people, relaxing only after a glass of alcohol... I was cold inside from each allowed me scream at you, and every offensive word in your address.

 



Soviet films for children

Poisoning mother

 

Son, under all these layers there is love... Unconditional, pure, natural... Such that flows from parent to child the way nature intended, regardless of grades, behaviour and the number of hours spent, or not spent together.

And only now I know that you came to me, for even so late, but to Wake me up. Thank you for that.

Your... mother."published

 

Author: Clear, Tokarick

 



Source: ya-yasna-ya.livejournal.com/249800.html